


Penance

by Steadfxst



Series: Banging the Bartender [3]
Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Alley Sex, Angst, Anonymous Sex, F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 20:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steadfxst/pseuds/Steadfxst
Summary: Her whole birthday was already strange, so it makes sense that sex with the maudlin bartender would be no different.





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Figure_of_Dismay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Figure_of_Dismay/gifts).



“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man says.

Eleanor licks her lip. She curls her fingers over the shell of the man’s ear and pushes them into his soft white hair. He moans softly into her ear.

She doesn’t understand what he’s apologizing for, and she’s pretty sure he’s not saying it about her. (She doesn’t even know him.) But he utters the words so sincerely that she doesn’t question him or push him away. It sounded like this was something he needed to say to someone. And he had merely decided that she would be that someone.

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s okay. You’re doing fine.”

His response is something, and it tugs at her heart in the most unexpected way. Before her near-death experience, she would’ve been disgusted and turned off, but now she just feels sorry for him.

“Shhh, it’s okay.”

He moves inside her, and she gasps.

With the hand not stroking his hair, she grips his shirt in her fist. He was splitting her open in a delicious counterpoint to his sudden existential crisis.

“I should’ve—I should’ve—” he tries to say.

She doesn’t feel right fucking this guy if he’s not enjoying this even a little bit, so she kisses him in the hopes that it will soothe his worries, if only for the brief time that they’ll share together. She slides her tongue inside his mouth, and he reciprocates with a moan.

“There we go,” she thinks.

He pushes a hand up her skirt and finds the place where he’s already pushed her underwear aside. He grips the fabric in his hand and rips it away like it was tissue paper.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” she says against his lips.

He half laughs, half pants in response.

“It’s weird," he says, "to hear you swear.”

It’s an odd thing to joke about, but she ignores it. Her whole birthday was already strange, so it makes sense that sex with the maudlin bartender would be no different. (She knows she already asked him for his name, but it's already slipped her mind. It feels too late to ask again...)

“What can I say? You’re good at what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head sadly and finds her clit once he’s tossed her panties into the dark depths of the alley, away from the light they’re fucking under.

“Are you—?”

“Yeah,” she says.

“Good, good,” he murmurs.

His lips move from her mouth to her neck, and she shudders, squeezing herself around him. His hips stutter, and she guesses he must be pretty close too.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and she almost doesn’t hear him because there’s a ringing in her ears that nearly drowns him out.

She feels her body tighten as she gets closer and closer to the line when suddenly it breaks over her in warm waves of sensation from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She moans loudly, but the bartender captures them with his lips.

“Eleanor?” he asks.

She tries to focus on his face, but she’s still feeling the tingles. Still, she knows what he’s asking for.

“Yeah, come for me, baby,” she says.

Maybe it’s corny, but it’s the first thing she can think of in her loose state. And anyway, it seems to work because suddenly, he’s dropping his head to her shoulder, grunting, and she feels him come inside her. It only now registers in her head that they probably should’ve used a condom. Oh well.

He pants quietly for a moment or two before he slowly lowers her back down to the ground. Her knees buckle when her heels hit the asphalt, but she catches herself. She watches him run a Kleenex from his pocket over his dick before tossing that, too, into the dirty alley before he tucks himself away. She licks her lips.

“You’re clean, right?”

He laughs.

“Yeah, you, uh. You don’t need to worry.”

She has no reason to, but she believes him.

“I should go,” she says, thumb hooked over her shoulder.

“Right.”

She feels like there’s something else she should say, but nothing comes to mind. He’s looking at his shoes; he probably just wants her to leave.

“See ya later,” she says lamely.

The man looks up with a smile, somehow managing to look sheepish even after what they had just done.

“Happy birthday, Eleanor.”

Before she can conjure up another stall tactic, he heads back into the bar.

She has a sudden, but fleeting, desire to follow the man back into the bar, but she doesn't. Instead, she sighs and pulls out her phone to call for rideshare to take her home.


End file.
